


He Knew Better Than to Wish

by turonegerton



Series: One Hundred Ways to Say "I Love You" [4]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turonegerton/pseuds/turonegerton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was true that it can to be taken slowly, one day at a time. But for Eggsy, it was the only thing that kept him in memory, no matter how painful he felt afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Knew Better Than to Wish

**Author's Note:**

> It was raining hard today and I thought to myself, "People romanticize rain too much. It's not always hot chocolate and cuddling under a blanket. It can be sad too, y'know. Oh! Why don't I try my hand at angst and see if I'm any good at it?"

It’s been two weeks since the unfortunate V-Day occurred. The world came to a standstill, too stunned to recover and too confused to understand the severity of the situation. Crime rate lowered down to nearly nothing, afraid of the violence that might stir up once more. Politicians scrambled to find a new means for authority. And a young man, no older than 25, woke up with an ache in his chest.

Because of the chaos everywhere, Merlin gave all the agents, and Eggsy (ironically no one has appointed him as a knight despite his role in saving the world), temporary leave while he sorted the mess that King left for them to solve. This gave Eggsy time to reflect, to regret, to repeat their last moment over and over again. Each day without him felt more painful than all the bullet wounds he’s taken, for it took only one to take him away from the world. His world. He remembered the retrieval vividly; his body found on the front steps of a church, impeccable suit bloodstained by his own and glasses broken beyond repair. His face slacked, almost as if he's merely sleeping. Eggsy violently shook as he held his hand, a glimmer of hope in his eyes that maybe he might rise from the dead like Lazarus, that he might smile at him and say how proud he is of him. But reality left no room for miracles and he found himself carrying his lifeless body back to England for a small service. If anyone noticed Eggsy’s bloodshot eyes as he managed the service, no one said anything.

It seemed that the world was in mourning too, as rain covered the streets of London for the past few days. Despite the weather, Eggsy walked the familiar path to his mentor’s house, carelessly stepping into puddles while withstanding the wind. He found himself in front of the house, like so many days before, and let himself in with the key Merlin discreetly gave to him. “For housekeeping,” Merlin hesitantly said to him. “God knows I can’t do it and I trust that you know where he lives and you what to take care of.”

As he entered the house, everything felt still. The only noises were the pattering of rain and the soft howling wind outside. But inside it was as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered except for what was in front of him. He felt safe here, free from prying eyes, unwanted stares and pitied looks. Because everyone knows how much he hurt every day; nothing stayed secret in the organization of spies. Yet at the same time he felt out of breath, choking in his own guilt as panic rushed into his mind, remembering the last words he said to him.

_I’ll sort this mess when I get back._

So confident in his words, like nothing could have stop him. At least that’s what Eggsy thought. Until…

He struggled for balance as everything swayed, gripping the nearest chair with white knuckles. He gasped, as if he was drowning in the blood that surrounded the body. What felt like an eternity was only mere minutes, finally finding stability once again. _Breathe, Eggsy_ he reminded him one time during his training. _Deep inhales and slow exhales. Find clarity in your mind so you can finally move on._

Oh how he wished it was that simple.

Once he's returned to normal he cleared his throat and walked to the alcohol cabinet, pouring himself a glass of whiskey found behind the others, vision slowly blurring. He distinctly remembered that his favorites were always hidden. _I don't believe in sharing_   _indulgences,_ he explained as he mixed the martini.Eggsy blinked furiously, as if willing the memory away, before finding a place to lie down. He sat on the windowsill, watching as the raindrops trickled down the window while swirling his drink. “I dreamt about you last night,” Eggsy whispered in the offbeat chance that he might hear from the other side. “I dreamt that you burst into the room right before we toasted for your death: unscathed, calm, and asking for a drink because you were parched. You were always smooth weren’t you? Just like a gentleman. Merlin had a fit, shouting at you about not checking in. Of course you just waved him off, saying some sort of lame excuse. Everyone else was shocked, but not me. No, I always knew you would come back. I mean, you said it so yourself Har-“

He couldn’t bear saying his name, not without the guilt crashing down on him again. No matter how hard he tried, the tears didn't stop falling. His sniffles turned into wails, echoing off into the rest of the house. “Oh god I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Harry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve shot the dog. None of this would’ve happened if I wasn’t such a fuck-up. You believed in me and I let you down,” Eggsy cried, his own words felt like razor sharp knives stabbing against his back. “I should’ve made you proud. I should’ve been the one in the church, not you. You deserved so much more from me and I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He repeated those two words, hoping that if said enough he could come back. In the end, he lulled himself to sleep, the glass in broken shards below him.

He woke up to the sound of rain and the dark sky looming over him. He didn’t bother wiping his tears as he cleaned up his mess, leaving the house spotless just like when he came in. He locked the door and headed back to his own house. In a daze he went straight to bed, knowing fully well that, like clockwork, he’ll return tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, hoping for the miracle that will never come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much (and I'm sorry) for reading it (and potentially suffering afterwards)! If you've been following my series, you may have noticed that I skipped a couple. Not to worry, I'm already writing something for them ;)


End file.
